Riddle Me This, Scarecrow
by Ezereal
Summary: The Riddler has a plan for Scarecrow- Have him solve riddles in order to escape from the Riddler's prison-like building. Scarecrow thinks it will be easy, but finds out otherwise- and there is something he never expected waiting for him at the end. Riddler/Scarecrow
1. Chapter 1

**This was pretty interesting to write. Thanks to Tay Mythological for helping with the plot and giving me the first riddle. And to the intergoogles, where I found the rest of them. I love you all. OuO**

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Today, I woke up, but not in my bedroom. It made me wonder- Did the GPD kidnap me in my sleep and send me back to Arkham? That couldn't happen... I mean, it was secret, where I was hiding. Even Harvey Dent, er... Two-Face, didn't know where I was. And if _he _didn't know, it was sure that Commissioner James Gordon wouldn't be able to find me out. Not even with the help of Batman... It was just like the cells in Arkham. A small, slightly cramped cement room, with no windows and just a thick iron door to let the nurses in. The only thing in the room was a mirror on the wall opposite the door and a medium-sized wooden table in the center. I know I had escaped from Arkham once, but this was different. I found myself not able to do _anything._

There was, however, a set of speakers mounted on the back left corner of the ceiling. There were never any in Arkham, because if there ever was any trouble, they pressed a big red button. The big red emergency button of doom... Maybe someone would come and check on me. I could give them a hit of my well-developed fear gas, and make my escape. I patted my pockets, and to my surprise, nothing was there. Not even in my shirt pocket, which I rarely use anyway. Great... Just great.

Suddenly a voice through the speakers jolted me out of my thoughts. "Ooh, I sure hope you are enjoying your stay, Jonny-boy!"

This just made my entire situation a million times worse... "Nigma... Why didn't I think it was you this whole time?"

"Because you're smart, and you think I'd never be able to kidnap you in your sleep and steal all of your fear gas. But, I hate to tell you this- I was right, you were wrong, I was right, you were wrong~!" Edward Nigma, The Riddler, began to sing.

"Yes, whatever makes you happy," I grumbled, running my hands through my brown, frizzy bed-head hair. "Let me out, or I swear to god I'll send you to Arkham and put you on the worst dosages of gas the world has ever known!"

"That doesn't sound very threatening," Nigma cooed. "But tell ya' what. If you can solve this riddle, I'll open the door and let you out. Sound like a plan?"

"You know, Nigma, I've worked with you for years on end and know all your riddles."

"No you don't, Jonny~! I've created some new, special ones. Just for you! I know you love me. Hm?"

"I don't love you. I never will, Nigma."

"Come on, party pooper... Okay, here's the riddle. How do you get out of a cement room with no windows, no chance of getting through the door, a mirror, and a table?"

"That's impossible. Eventually you'd run out of fresh air and suffocate to death. That is, if you don't starve to death or die of dehydration," I stated.

"Okay, Crane. Pretend that logic doesn't exist, alright? Now, when you can say the answer to the riddle, I'll open up the door and let you out. Bye-bye, Jonny!" The sound of the speakers cutting out echoed in this room. Great. Now, to start thinking. How would you somehow make a hole through the cement?

Since he said it had a mirror... I turned around and walked around the table, looking in the mirror. This has to has something to do with it... Right? I stared in the mirror, and all I saw was what I saw before- the table. I see what I saw... I use a saw... To cut the table in half. That sounds so stupid! Gah! How does he come up with all these?!

Wait- it's coming to me. To halves... Make a whole. A whole... A hole! Jump through that hole... "I got it. You look in the mirror, and you see what you saw. You pick up that saw, and cut the table in half. Two halves make a whole, and you jump through that hole."

"Ding ding ding!" came Nigma's voice from the speakers. "Correct." True to his word, the iron door opened and I half ran, half stumbled out. But it just opened up to yet another room, not the outside world that I craved. Funny how you miss the things you take for granted when they're taken away from you...

The room was dark- no lights whatsoever, except the dim lights from the room I had been in before. On another table was a model airplane, one that a child would play with.

"Nigma, you sniveling little liar! You said you'd let me out!" I shouted.

"I did say I'd let you out. I never said I'd let you out of the building." This time his voice came from another set of speakers, again mounted in the corner, and also dribbling in from the other room as well. "Solve this riddle: A man decides to quit his job, so he turns off the lights, and walks out of the room, and 200 people die. Why do 200 people die?" Again, the sound of the speakers cut out.

What would a model airplane have to do with lights being shut off? Let me think- Things to do with airplanes, a man quitting, lights shutting off, and people dying. Maybe, a giant plane with 200 passengers- including the pilot, which was the man's job- was flying over Gotham City. The man shut off the power to the plane, causing all the lights to shut off and the plane to crash and the passengers and pilot crashing to their doom. Now that just sounded silly...

Maybe, the man was running the lights that glow during storms and at night to help airplanes see, and he shut off the light, causing the passengers to crash to their deaths! "Nigma! The man worked at an air control center, and when he turned off the lights, the captain couldn't see and crashed."

"Good job, Jonny-boy. Now solve the next one," he laughed as yet another door opened into another room.

Was this ever going to end?


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm not sure I'm going to have as many riddles in here as I originally planned, because I think it's just going to be a bit repetitive. So, if you think you want more, tell me. Might even make a sequel.**

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"Nigma... I swear, when I get out of here, you are dead," I grumbled.

"Ooh, violent, Jonny-boy?" Nigma said tauntingly. "You know you'd never, never do that. Or... At least I don't think you would. Anyway! I am more powerful than God, more evil than the devil, the poor have me, the rich want me, and if you eat me, you'll die. What am I?"

With the expression that Nigma was showing in his voice showed that he never wanted this to end. I'm not even able to describe what I want to do to him once he finally lets me out of this terrible place. "Is there even anything more powerful, or more evil? I do not know if Ra's al Ghul thinks he's more powerful, but I doubt that he is. I couldn't think of anything more evil, if it ever existed.

Then I started to realize I'd be stuck in here forever. The answer is probably going to end up being very easy, and I began to wonder if he'd just give me the answer. At most, I'd like a hint. This was nothing like me... Alright. The poor have me. The poor don't really have much at all, really. The rich want me? The rich have everything- They don't want much anymore at all, since they have enough money to buy everything. Like Bruce Wayne... What does he even do with all of that money? I let out a sigh and sat down, leaning back against the concrete wall, staring up at the ceiling.

In the previous rooms, there was always something in there to give me hint, and it always helped. But in this room, nothing. No table, nothing on the floors, on the ceiling, on the walls. Let's see... There is _nothing _that could ever be more powerful than God, right? _Nothing _that can be more evil than the devil. The poor have _nothing. _The rich want _nothing. _If you eat _nothing, _ you'll die.

"Nothing."

"You need to take longer, little Scarecrow! You're becoming smarter and smarter!"

"Do you _ever _stop talking, Edward?"_  
_

"I don't know if I should be happy about you finally using my first name, or if I should feel threatened."

"Threatened, as of right now!" I growled. "Are there any more of these things?"

"I just have two more... One's easy, it is."

"Better be easy." I began to mumble under my breath as I moved on to yet another room. Again, no table, no items. Except two, that really shocked me.

"So he's got you in here?"

"Freeze," I whispered. "No wonder it's cold in here. What are you in here for? Trying to bring your wife back again?"

"I will hurt you, Crane..." he muttered. "He said he needed me. For this room, a hint for... that guy." Mr. Freeze pointed a bulky gloved finger towards the other side of the room, so I glanced over.

I shrunk back in disgust. "Did Nigma manage to do... That?"

"No. Joker did, I believe."

"Why does he need a dead man in here?"

"Riddler said it's for some riddle."

"Yeah. Took me from my home in my sleep and locked me up in here, only letting me out if I can solve his stupid little riddles. I have more important work to do than solve some child's jokes. I have formulas to perfect and new ones to develop and-"

"Just focus, Crane."

"Two cops walked into a room with no windows and found a dead man who obviously hung himself from the ceiling, though they couldn't figure out how. There was no chair beneath him that he might have jumped off of, or a table. Just a puddle of water. How'd he do it?" came The Riddler's voice from the sets of speakers. "Come on, Jonny! You can do this!"

"How could he have gotten up to the ceiling, without stepping up on a chair?" I asked, turning to Victor. Maybe somebody was with him, and moved the chair out from under his body and hid it somewhere."

"That may be one possibility, but why would somebody be with him while he was committing suicide?" Victor told me.

"Someone that wanted him dead, perhaps?"

"If someone wanted him dead, they wouldn't have allowed them to bring harm to themselves. They would have killed the man with their own hands."

"Then... How could he have done it? Maybe he's like Superman, and can fly?"

"Now you're just being ludicrous."

"Then how on earth did he do that?"

"Think." Victor was fumbling with a chunk of ice, tossing it back and forth with his hands. It was so cold in this room, it wasn't going to melt anytime soon.

"You're here as a clue for this, am I right?"

"As far as I know, yes."

"So you're not here to bring back your wife?" That earned me a tough punch to the gut... I leaned over as I held my stomach in excruciating pain that nearly made my eyes water. "Oh, you're strong..."

"You deserved that, Crane!"

"Yeah, I probably did... But it was worth it..." I coughed and leaned against the wall. "If there was a puddle under the body, did you possibly freeze something?"

"Figure it out yourself."

"The man... He, uh... He stood on a block of ice until it melted?"

"Good job, my little Scarecrow," Riddler's voice spoke out. "One last riddle, you see?"

"Yes..."

"Hm? What's wrong, Jonny-boy? Sounds like you are in pain~!"

"I made fun of his wife..."

"That's a bad idea! Silly little boy... Head over to the next room."

Victor and I headed into the next room, which wasn't really much of a room at all. Instead, it was a long hallway lined with coffins. "There better not be any more dead bodies in these coffins, Nigma."

"Trust me, there definitely won't be any more dead bodies. Here's your riddle:The one who makes it, sells it. The one who buys it, doesn't use it. The one who's using it, _doesn't_ know he's using it. What is it? Good luck," he said with an excited tone. His voice was more hushed this time. Why was that...?

"Obviously, if you make it, you might as well sell it," I said. "But if you buy it, most of the time, you do use what you buy. Maybe he's a collector, collecting items to display in their home. But somebody must use it. What's something you use that you don't know you're using?"

"Think, Crane. You're in a hall full of coffins. If you're dead, you don't know you're using it," Victor suggested."

"I like the way you think," I complimented him, leaning on one of the many coffins.

"Good job, " Riddler said again, this time, his voice more hushed than before.

The door of the very coffin I was leaning on began to creak open, so I jumped back. "What?!"

Next thing I knew, I was being pulled toward the coffin by my tie. I was pulled into a soft kiss, and I was too shocked to pull away. I didn't know what was going on, and my mind and heart were just racing.

"Oh, you two, do that somewhere else!" I heard Victor growl at us.

Who was the other person...? When it was over, I took a few steps back, a light pink covering my face. The one that made the moved received a slap across the face. "What was that for?" I yelled.

"Thought you'd like it," he whimpered, stepping out of the coffin and walking toward the exit door, his shoulders hunched over and his head hung low. Victor stood up and quickly walked out the door with the most disgusted look on his face. Edward Nigma then turned back toward me. "I'm sorry," he whined, sadness filling his voice.

"No, no, it is fine, just ignore it..."

"So... You don't mind?" Happiness lit up his face as he lifted his head, looking right up at me.

"Nope..."

He ran toward me just like a little kid running to his mother, and pulled me into the strongest hug I've ever gotten.

"Hey. Get off me, Nigma." He let go, and just stared as I walked out of this miserable building. I let out a sigh of relief to actually be outdoors again, breathing fresh, natural air.

This must have been the weirdest day of my life.

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**I apologize for any of them being OOC, which they probably are. I struggle with that.**


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